#Braeden Lemasters

[romanholidayze]

[ateotdwinchester]

ꨄ︎ you don’t need a reason

a/n: just a cute braeden self indulgence fic to make myself feel better, so enjoy i guess </3

pairing: braeden x reader

summary: you’d been having a bad day and decided to go over to braeden’s place to get some comfort from him

warnings: hints at struggles with depression

word count: 2k

✩ ✩ ✩

As you pulled into his driveway, you couldn’t seem to remove your hands from the steering wheel. Nor could you begin to move to open your door.

You’d had a bad day. Maybe a bad week even. You weren’t sure whether it was stress, sadness, perhaps your mental health making you feel this way.

Whatever it was, you’d had such a bad day, that you drove yourself all the way to Braeden’s house. Otherwise known as your boyfriend.

He had always been here for you. On good days. On bad days. And anything in between. He cared about you more than anyone ever had.

As of recent, he’d been with you through some of what you felt were your worst days that you’d ever experienced.

You were worried you’d scare him away, that he wouldn’t want to deal with that side of you. But he was there, checking up on you, figuring out what he could do to help.

He loved you, and would do anything if it meant you’d be happy.

Once you finally managed to get out of your car, you stood there for a moment, taking a long breath before starting to walk up to Braeden’s front door.

You knocked on the door gently, waiting for him to answer… but he didn’t. So, you knocked again. Just for there to be no different result.

He’d previously told you to use the spare key he gave you if he ever didn’t answer the door. You were always welcome at his place. And today seemed to be one of those days.

You found the key attached to your car keys, slotting it into the lock on the door to unlock it.

Pushing the door open slowly, you could hear music. What mainly sounded like a guitar being played. He must’ve been working on some music.

As you walked inside, you closed the door slipping your shoes off along with placing your small bag down.

You made your way towards his little music room, peeping inside to see him sitting at his desk in front of his laptop. Headphones on his head as he clicked away on his keyboard.

You shoved your hands in your hoodie pockets, well… Braeden’s hoodie, as you walked closer to him.

This would definitely startle him, and you felt bad for that, but you reminded yourself that he never minded you coming over like this.

“Braeden,” you spoke softly, hoping he would hear you first.

Of course, he didn’t, typing something into his laptop. He seemed to be searching for something on his desk, frowning as he suddenly turned in your direction.

His eyes widened as he jumped. Quickly sliding his headphones off as he looked directly at you, holding a hand to his heart.

“Baby, hey,” he chuckled. “I didn’t hear you come in, did you text me?”

“Oh, no, I um, I didn’t,” you mumbled, feeling bad now. “You look busy, maybe I’ll just go.”

“No it’s okay,” Braeden quickly shook his head. “Just testing out some chords for a song.”

You nodded your head, hands still in your pockets as you didn’t say another word.

Braeden swivelled on his chair, turning so he could face you properly. He sat up straight, seeing the look on your face.

He would never push you to talk or explain what was going on if you didn’t want to. But he’d known you for long enough to see the signs.

The way your shoulders slouched, your hands in your pockets, one of your feet tapping up and down on the floor and especially your dull eyes.

“Can I sit with you?” You asked. He went to stand up, but you spoke again. “No, I mean in here. So you can keep working.”

Then he knew what you meant. He rolled his chair back, giving more space. He held his arms out for you, waiting for you to sit down.

You sat with your legs around him, snuggling up to his chest while you hugged your arms around his waist. Your head resting on his shoulder.

He held you, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly. He felt you take a long and deep breath, your body relaxing into his right after.

“You okay?” Braeden asked. He took that moment to move back in closer to his desk, not continuing with anything just yet.

You didn’t know what to tell him, so you stayed silent, burying your face into his neck as he felt your warm breath.

“Do you… wanna know about my day?” He questioned, thinking that it might help if he talked instead.

You nodded your head almost immediately, keeping yourself cuddled up to him as he started clicking away on his laptop again.

“I got an idea for a song a few days ago,” he began explaining. “It’s mostly just me mumbling lyrics, but I sent it to Dylan and Cole and they seemed to like it.”

He hit play on his laptop, it started with him humming a small tune before you could hear his voice.

You listened intently, hearing the theme and meaning behind the song and the lyrics Braeden was using.

After it got a ways through the song, you twisted in his lap slightly, just laying your head against his shoulder as you looked to his laptop.

You saw the song was called Bad Dream, and you absolutely loved it. Not that it would be hard for you to like the song, you loved all of his music.

Once the recording finished playing, Braeden glanced down to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“What do you think?” His hand lingered near your face, his thumb caressing your cheek.

“Your voice is beautiful,” you answered.

He laughed, “I’m mumbling, it’s not even a proper recording.”

You rolled your eyes, “okay well, I love the song,” you told him. “Who’s having the bad dream?”

Braeden took a breath, unsure of how you’d react, “it’s about… you.”

“Oh.”

You stared at the screen, seeing the file. He wrote a song about you? You weren’t sure how to feel, especially with the way the lyrics sounded. You weren’t sure if it was a good or bad song to have written about you.

“We don’t have to put it out if you don’t want us to,” Braeden reassured, tightening his arms around you. “It was just a little thing I thought of, while thinking about how you’ve been feeling recently.”

“Does it annoy you?” You suddenly asked.

Braeden furrowed his eyebrows, not sure what you were asking.

“Does what annoy me?”

You sat up, looking at him properly, “that I don’t always tell you what’s going on?” you elaborated. “That I don’t like talking about how I feel.”

“No, of course not, baby,” Braeden quickly shook his head. “Why would that annoy me.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down, fiddling with your hands. “You wrote a song about me not opening up so it must annoy you a little.”

“Baby…”

Braeden cupped your face in his hands, making sure you were looking at him. He sighed, hating that this was your way of thinking.

“That’s not what I was singing about at all,” he tried to reassure. “It’s more about.. me wishing I could understand what goes on in that head of yours.”

He moved to take your hands in his, seeing you were listening to his explanation of the song.

“There’s lyrics in there about worries, or fears that the way you are would affect our relationship,” he continued. “But there’s a piece in there about me caring about you too.”

Braeden squeezed your hands gently, almost seeing that you were processing what he was saying in this moment.

“I’m sorry,” you closed your eyes in frustration. “I’m so awkward when I get like this.”

“Hey, no you’re not,” Braeden rested his hands on your hips, moving his thumbs back and forth to try and comfort you. “This is just how your mind works, and that’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“but this past week has been a nightmare for you.”

“for me?” Braeden was confused.

“Because I haven’t been able to explain why I’m feeling like this,” your voice broke half way through talking. “I never seem to be able to explain it.”

Braeden saw the tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him, “you don’t need to explain why you’re feeling a certain way,” he wiped a stray tear away. “Your mind just… gets a little wonky sometimes, that’s all.”

“Yea, but—“

“Baby,” he cut you off from speaking. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, you don’t need a reason for feeling sad, you don’t need to have a reason for any of it. Okay?”

You nodded your head, leaning forwards to rest your forehead against his shoulder. Braeden didn’t like this, but all he wanted was to be here for you in these times.

“Has it been like this all week?” He asked.

“Kind of,” you mumbled.

“Anything I can do?”

It was silent in the room for a moment. Braeden didn’t push, he let you think about his question, let you decide what you wanted to do.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, not what he wanted to hear.

“Well, we can watch a movie, or I can play you some more music?”

He felt you shrug your shoulders. Understanding that maybe today was one of your worst days. Or maybe you were just being indecisive.

“Have you eaten today?”

He moved to that topic, knowing sometimes it can be a lot of work for you to think about getting food when you felt like this. And as suspected, you shook your head.

“Alright then,” Braeden abruptly stood up with you in his arms. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

He carried you out of his music room and over to his kitchen, setting you down on the counter in front of the window.

He stepped back slightly, leaning his hands next to you as he smiled at you, getting a small smile from you in return.

“What do you want?” He took hold of one of your hands in his.

“Whatever you have.”

“Whatever I have…” Braeden looked through his cabinets, over to his fridge, searching for something you might want. “You want something small?”

He looked over to you, watching as you nodded your head. He’d rather you have a proper meal, but if you were gonna eat at all, it’ll have to be something you’d really like.

“Do you have any cookies?” You suddenly asked.

“You just want cookies?” Braeden checked. You, again, nodded. “Sure you don’t want me to make you something?”

“Yea, I’m sure,” you reassured.

Braeden found his packet of chocolate chip cookies in one of his top cabinets, taking them over to you. As you went to take them from him, he moved them back from you.

You folded your arms, “what?”

“If I give you cookies,” he paused. “Promise me we’ll talk about this? Please?”

You knew he’d give you the cookies even if you said no. This was just his way of trying to compromise. You’d get food, he’d get a little insight into your mind for once.

Looking at him, you could see he just wanted to know how you were really feeling. All he wanted was to be able to help you, he wouldn’t push you to talk about anything if you really didn’t want to.

“Okay,” you agreed.

Braeden almost didn’t believe it, “you want to talk about it?”

“Might help for me to get a few things off of my chest,” you took a breath, not sure how it would really go.

He placed the cookies down for a second, lightly cupping your cheek in his right hand as he caressed his thumb back and forth.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” Braeden leaned in, kissing you softly.

You pulled him in for a hug after that, “I love you,” you relaxed into his embrace.

“I love you too, baby,” he moved back, picking up the cookies. “Now let’s go sit and eat some cookies, then we can talk.”

You got down from the counter to follow him towards his living room.

No matter when you had hard days, you always knew Braeden would be here to care for you and try to make you happy.

You didn’t know what you’d ever to without him in your life.

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hypnotizedstarkey @jjunebug @archersonlyecstasy @jimmasterflash | if you would like to join my wallows taglist, please comment here or see this post

[lvndrfucks]

idk if ur taking requests but if u are can u PLEEK do dylan blurbs 🙏🙏🙏

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ lil dylan minnette blurbs｡˚🕊️ ࣪𖤐💫

➤ it was one of those late night outings. you and your friends decided to go to a bar to kick off the weekend and just have some fun. that fun included drinking as much as possible to the point you couldn’t even walk.

which brings us to now.

one of your friends who had sobered up at the night’s end called dylan to pick you up. literally. you were passed out in the booth.

he thanked her for calling and had to haul you over his shoulder. in the car, you were in and out of consciousness, muttering nonsense. he glanced from time to time to make sure you were okay. he had to admit, it was kind of funny seeing you this way.

he carried you inside the apartment and laid you down on the bed. while you were fast asleep, dylan carefully removed the heels from your feet and changed you from your dress to one of his t-shirts. he went to the bathroom to fetch your wipes and kneeled beside you to remove your makeup.

then, he grabbed the trashcan from the bathroom and sat it on your bedside. he placed a glass of water on the table with some tylenol. it wasn’t going to be an easy recovery tomorrow. at least dylan would be there to help.

➤ dylan wasn’t the biggest social media advocate. he rarely understood what was trending nowadays and opted on trying to stay off his phone. it was hard to do, though, when he loved showing you off.

ever since you two started dating, his posts had mainly been about you. shared meals, shopping together, simply just holding hands. he wanted the whole world to know his love for you.

it didn’t stop there. you were his lockscreen, of course, and he kept a photo of you in his wallet. whenever he had to get his card out to pay, he’d always smile seeing the polaroid of you tucked away.

at first, you were a little camera shy. you’d always cover your face and complain you didn’t want your picture taken, but dylan didn’t take no for an answer.

you were minding your own business sitting on the couch, heavily engrossed in your book, when you noticed dylan’s phone pointed towards you. you simply raised the book higher to cover your face.

“hey.” his voice had a slight whine.

“can’t hear you. reading.” you couldn’t even read the words with the pages so close to your face.

you peeked your head out to see his phone still pointed at you, no doubt, recording the interaction. you rolled your eyes while dylan simply smiled.

➤ it was date night. instead of going out, you both decided to stay in. but still managed to go out? well, more like in the backyard. you guys decided to have a dinner in the privacy of your own home. you spent the evening preparing food while dylan decorated the backyard. you both decided to keep it a surprise.

“it smells delicious in there,” dylan called from the living room. you had banned him from stepping foot in the kitchen. if he needed something, he would holler out and you’d bring it to him.

“and i’m sure it’s beautiful out there!” you let out a final breath after preparing the last dish. you hoped it tasted as good as it looked.

you pushed open the batwing door and approached dylan sitting on the couch. you noticed the curtains to the backyard were closed shut. you couldn’t even sneak a peek if you tried. you leaned down to place a kiss upon dylan’s lips.

“is it ready,” he asked.

you nodded. “i’m gonna go change and then, i’ll bring the food out.”

“you don’t want any help?”

you were already walking up the stairs. “if you touch any of my dishes, i’m chopping your hands off.” his laugh echoed throughout the room.

after you changed and fixed your hair and makeup, you headed back downstairs where dylan awaited next to the backyard door. he was rocking back and forth on his feet with an excited grin.

“come on, come on.” he beckoned you over. “you have to close your eyes.”

you complied and waited for further instruction. you could hear the sound of the curtains lifting. dylan grabbed your arms to guide you outside. it was only a few steps until he stopped.

“okay, open them.”

a small gasp emitted. there were twinkling lights set up around the patio roof and covering one of the large trees nearby, a candle-lit table set up with rose petals trailing down the middle and a single flower in the middle in a thin vase.

“oh, my god, it’s beautiful.” you turned towards dylan, placing your hands on either side of his face to kiss him.

“i’m glad you like it.” he grinned. “do you need help bringing the food out?”

“no. i’ll bring it all out. you wait here with your eyes closed. actually, go wait in the bathroom.” he started laughing as you ushered him inside. “i’m serious. go, go, go.”

“okay, okay,” he called over his shoulder and disappeared down the hallway.

once you heard the door click, you quickly grabbed the dishes to place outside. your heels clicked rapidly against the wooden tiles as you raced back and forth. it wasn’t long until you were calling dylan back. your hands went over his eyes as you were the one guiding him out now.

“i already know i’m gonna love it,” he commented.

you giggled and removed your hands. “ta-da! i made chicken adobo with lumpia, and pork barbecue. plus, there’s dessert in the freezer for later.”

dylan’s smile couldn’t get any bigger. his arms wrapped around your waist, kissing your cheek once, then twice.

“you’re amazing, you know that?”

you laughed while placing your arms around his neck. “i didn’t actually. you should tell me again.”

dylan leaned in to kiss you. “you’re amazing,” he mumbled against your lips. “and stunning. and beautiful.”

you pulled away, patting his chest. “how about we eat before the food gets cold? then, i can show you how much i appreciate my handsome boyfriend.”

he raised his eyebrows, a look you returned before leading him to sit.

➤ you heard the front door unlocking from your seat on the couch. you looked over your shoulder as dylan entered your guys’ house. you smiled at him before returning to your book.

“hi, hun. how was rehearsal,” you asked.

he let out a tired sigh. “fine.” the exhaustion was evident in his tone.

you looked back up as he appeared by your side. wordlessly, he laid down on the couch with his head on your lap. you set your book aside to give him your full attention.

“do you wanna talking about it?” you fingers combed through his hair gently.

“just wanna make sure everything’s perfect,” dylan answered. “i don’t wanna disappoint the fans or anyone else. we have a few other performances that’ll be recorded along the road, so we’re trying to figure that out. it’s just a lot.”

you hummed. “you know they’re going to love whatever it is you guys decide to do. they know and i know how much time and thought you put into your work. don’t overthink it too much.” his eyes were closed, but he still nodded in acknowledgment. “how about we spend our night in and i’ll go with you tomorrow to help you with the rest of the arrangements. okay?”

dylan readjusted himself so he was facing you. “i love you. and thank you.”

“i love you too.” you leaned down to peck his lips. “do you want me to get you anything right now? are you hungry?”

he turned back over, snuggling into your lap. “not right now. this is good.” he grabbed your free hand and placed kisses over your palm.

[goldenminutes]

spring EP. wallows

[felixlefebvre]

DYLAN MINNETTE at WALLOWS concert.

[awarnin]

Hiiii queen!!! I love your work sm and you’re literally the only person writing for wallows at the moment so thank you for that!! Can I request a Braeden fic? Maybe something to do with comforting the reader or the reader comforting him? I’m honestly fine with whatever cause I know it’s gonna be amazing either way. Thank you!!💕

Do You Think So...? | BRAEDEN LEMASTERS X FEM!READER

synopsis: He doesn't know how to face an argument...

warning: angst, Braeden thinks everything is against him, anxiety. He argues with Dylan.

author's note: it hasn't even been 24 hours since this request was made omg when it comes to Braeden's angst im SEATED (i've been daydreaming about this for the last month lmao) thanks for your request and the compliments, baby. let me know what you think, i hope you like it <3

wordcount: 5.1k

.

You sit at the kitchen table, the warm light of the lamp above you casting soft shadows on the walls as you swipe your finger across your phone screen. The distant hum of the city filtering through the open window mingles with the soft whisper of the trees. You're waiting for Braeden to come back from his studio session with the guys, like he does every Thursday, when the sound of the door suddenly swinging open breaks the tranquility. The bang of the door slamming shut echoes through the house, and you hear hurried footsteps running up the stairs.

“Brae?” you call, setting your phone aside as you stand. There’s no response, but his body language says it all. You follow the sound of his footsteps, climbing the stairs one by one, a growing concern building in your chest. When you reach the hallway, you hear the bedroom door slam shut, followed by a muffled cry of frustration.

As you gently push the door open, you see him. Braeden is lying on the edge of the bed, his feet dangling in the air, and his eyes—those eyes that have always shown you strength and kindness—are now filled with helplessness. He looks at you like a wounded puppy, extending his hand toward you, seeking comfort.

“Oh, babe… What happened now?” you ask softly as you take his hand. You lie down beside him, feeling the weight of his emotions in the air, so thick it feels like you could cut through it. Your fingers find his hair, and you begin to stroke it, trying to soothe the storm in his mind.

“It’s the same as always… Dylan doesn’t listen to me,” his voice is barely a whisper, as if the words weigh him down. He falls silent for a moment, struggling to find the way to explain what he’s feeling. “I want to do one thing, he wants another, and…” He lets out a long sigh, and it feels as if the air leaves his body like he’s been holding his breath all day. “It’s suffocating,” he adds, his hand falling limply to his side as his eyes search yours, filled with uncertainty.

You keep stroking his hair, your gaze soft yet steady, trying to offer him reassurance. “And what did Dylan say about it?”

Braeden shifts slightly on the bed, his gaze lost on the ceiling. “He said it was fine, but…” he pauses, his eyes narrowing as if replaying the moment in his mind. “I know he was upset about it. I told him we could leave the song the way he wanted, but he told me no, that it was fine the way I suggested. But still… everything felt tense.”

You know Braeden hates conflict. He’d rather swallow his own words than get into an argument, and that’s what worries you most. Sometimes, his desire to avoid problems locks him in an emotional prison.

“Braeden…” you look at him, your eyes reflecting the sadness you feel for him.

“I know! I know what you’re going to say,” he interrupts, his voice rising a little, not out of anger but from frustration with himself. “You told me to stand my ground, not to give in so easily, but… God, it’s so hard. I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

You feel this is one of those moments when you need to be his anchor, so you take a deep breath before speaking. “Are you willing to sing songs you don’t like for the rest of your life just because you’re afraid of facing a small disagreement?”

Your words seem to hang in the air, heavy, but necessary. Braeden falls silent for a moment, his brows furrowed as if processing what you just said. You know he’s not someone who gives up easily, but the fear of disappointing others has always kept him bound.

“It’s not that…” he finally responds, his voice softer, more vulnerable. “I just… I don’t want him to think I believe his music is bad, and I don’t want him to end up singing songs he doesn’t like either.”

You sigh, understanding him more than he understands himself. “Brae,” you look at him tenderly, “if Dylan accepted your suggestion, it’s because he thought it was good, because he listened to you, he didn't do it because he felt obligated. The only one putting this pressure on yourself is you. Making music with your friends shouldn’t feel like this.”

Braeden keeps staring at the ceiling, processing your words. Slowly, he raises an arm and places it over his forehead, covering his eyes. “Do you think so?” he asks, his voice tired, but also carrying a small glimmer of hope.

“Yes, I do,” you respond firmly. “Music is a reflection of what you feel. You can’t keep suppressing your ideas out of fear of what others will think. You need to find a balance, and the guys will, too.”

Braeden turns toward you, his eyes tired but grateful. In that moment, he feels small, vulnerable, but also comforted by your presence. You take his hand again and squeeze it gently, giving him strength.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

You snuggle closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, feeling his breathing slowly deepen, becoming more relaxed. The atmosphere, once thick with tension, now feels lighter. The night outside carries on, but within that room, the world seems to pause for a moment, giving you both a much-needed reprieve.

Braeden closes his eyes, and you keep stroking his hair, knowing that for today, at least, you’ve managed to calm the storms in his mind.

.

[h8aaz]

❝ nobody gets me (like you) .ᐟ ❞

⭒ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — you go to schaefer's party and unexpectedly meet a really cute guy...and he's in a band?

⭒ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 — follows music video . suggestive kissing . fingering . oral male! receiving . curly fries!!! .

you were walking through the crowd at schaefer's party, searching for any type of drink. and curly fries. you had told schaefer you would be a no-show if he didn't promise to get curly fries, so the entire night you were on a mission to find the delicious food.

you scrambled through the kitchen before setting your eyes on a small jack in the box carrier of curly fries. you held in your squeal as you grabbed the box and began to devour the food you had been craving for the past hour, a satisfied sigh being exhaled from your nose with a matching hum.

you also found a 'tasty beverage', a nice soda to wash down the fries. and when you were done, you began to walk around in search of your friends. you saw schaefer's younger brother speed by you before you caught up with two of your friends by the pool outside.

"god, you reek of curly fries." one of your friends said. "because schaefer came through with them!" you replied happily. "see, i told you he'd get them. when in doubt, trust the old faithful schaefer." your other friend chirped in. the two of them were handed pool noodles by schaefer's brother before he ran off again, his older brother calling him out and diving into the pool instead of running around to catch him.

"what a terrible shortcut." you comment, making your friends laugh as they tossed the pool noodles away.

right when the foam left your vision, you saw him. and he was staring right back at you.

it felt like you were floating. like your world suddenly got brighter and clearer as you zeroed in on him, him doing the same.

you absentmindedly twirled your hair with a smile, a faint shade of pink rising to your face. he was entranced by you, staring like he was put under a spell.

he began to make his way to you right as one of your friends whispered about something going on inside the house, making him and your other friend push you away towards said house, all while your gaze lingered on the cute guy staring at you.

braeden seemed completely devastated by your sudden absence. he made it a mission to find you and actually speak to you. his heart was thumping fast as he watched your friend grab your hand into hers, dragging you away from him. unintentionally, of course. i mean, they didn't know.

your friends let go of you as they entered the house first. you stood by the door and turned, seeing braeden come from around the house looking for you. he turned his head and saw you smiling at him before you made your way inside, him following soon after, trying to catch up with you.

you sneakily grabbed another batch of curly fries from the kitchen as your friends walked you around the house to meet up with the rest of your friend group that had shown up….with a mannequin?

"dude, what's up with the chick?" one friend commented, making the group laugh.

the one holding the plastic woman shrugged, "dunno, i found her in the living room. i'll name her…" his voice drifted off as he and the rest looked at the mannequin, trying to come up with a name for her.

"delores," you spoke, a half chewed curly fry in your mouth, "name her delores. she looks like one." one of the people in the group opened their mouth as they were about to speak but you held up a finger, "don't ask, she just does." you cut them off and stuffed another delicious curly fry into your mouth.

braeden searched everywhere for you, finding no luck. he then went back to the pool, telling dylan and cole to get ready to perform.

"wait- perform? like we're gonna play? dude. the van exploded, how are we gonna-" cole started but was cut off by braeden.

"dude, chill out, i got this. we still saved the instruments and those shirts, right?" he asked. the two in front of him shared a look before slowly nodding with dragged out 'yeah's'.

"okay, awesome." braeden then walked away to find their stuff, leaving his bandmates confused.

"is he okay?" dylan questioned, turning to cole, who just shrugged in response. "like, he's being weird."

"yeah…he knows we're not supposed to play tonight, right? did he even ask schaefer?" cole asked as he and dylan began to follow after the brunette.

the trio were now in matching white shirts with blue lettering spelling out 'wallets', cole was hanging up a banner with the same design.

"cole, i think it can be a little higher?" braeden pointed to his curly haired friend as he raised up the banner, "a little higher on the- on- y'know what, it's good, it's perfect. you can go back to the drums. it's great. looks great. love it." he dismissed, letting cole sit at his drums.

"wait, so which one do you want me to play?" dylan motioned a hand to the keyboard in front of him while his other held his guitar to his body.

"just play both," braeden pointed at the instruments. "oh- alright, alright." dylan nodded. "yeah, just play both. great. okay." braeden exhaled slowly, nervously strumming the strings of his guitar with his plectrum.

schaefer then walked into the room and glanced at the setup, a pitcher of some tasty beverage in hand. "yo, brae-boy, you're not on setlist, man. what is this?" he questioned, making dylan and cole share a look.

"it's okay, man, i'm just getting stoaked. i'm just getting stoaked." the brunette excused. schaefer nodded in understanding, "you are the curly fry, my guy," he patted braeden's shoulder, "say no more." he began to walk away. "yeah, okay." braeden sighed while dylan did a rock hand to the disappearing schaefer.

braeden then looked down at his shirt. "cole, why is this 'wallets'?" he asked. the other two looked down at their shirts, reading the exact word on them. "our band name isn't wallets? this changes everything." cole responded. "i like it." dylan added.

"okay, it's fine, it's fine. are you guys ready?" braeden pointed at the two, with cole nodding and dylan giving a small "yeah."

"alright, here we go," all three of them held their respective instruments, ready to play. "one, two, three, four!" braeden counted down.

cole began to play the drums as dylan played the keyboard, leaving braeden to mess with his hair, face, and the goggles on his head before playing his guitar and singing into the mic.

"we only just met tonight," he sang, eyes scanning the room for you as everyone began to look at them.

"but I think we'll put up a good fight." you sang—in braeden's head, that is. in reality, you were simply bopping your head along to the song, your eyes locked onto his again. mutual grins were plastered onto both of your faces as he continued to sing.

after performing their song, braeden immediately left his guitar with his friends and made his way towards you.

"hi." he grinned.

"hey." you beamed back.

"i'm braeden," he stuck his hand out and you shook it with a response of your name. "i think you're really, really, really beautiful, and i've been looking for you all night, and i hope that...that isn't weird?" he chuckled.

you let out a soft giggle at his slight ramble but adorable and dorky charm. "not weird at all, brae." you spoke, the nickname falling from your lips smoothly, as if you had said it everyday of your life before tonight.

stars practically sparkled in his eyes as he stared at you, taking in every feature of your face under the mix of warm house lights and vibrant colors of rotating party ones.

"would you wanna- no that's stupid," he quickly shook his head and looked down with a chuckle. "no, no, what?" you giggled again. god, he was so cute. he even had a small hint of a blush on his cheeks, just from standing in front of you. and you were sure that you had a matching one, too.

"uhm," he looked back up at you, losing his voice slightly from meeting your gaze. he never knew someone's eyes could be so pretty. sure, he had gotten multiple compliments on his own, but damn. yours beat his in every way possible. the hues of your irises behind dilated pupils that were identical to his own—they were gorgeous, fitting every color of the lights, no matter what shade they turned into under them.

"do you wanna do- or go do- or uh- try out seven minutes in heaven? possibly? maybe? not- not like in- in a, uh, a weird way but-"

"i'd love to, braeden."

and your hands quickly found refuge together. he led you all the way upstairs and to the designated closet, a sign that quite literally said '7 minutes in heaven' with puffy clouds around it making itself known. he opened the door and allowed you to step into the confined space first before closing and locking the door behind himself.

for such a big house, this was the tiniest closet ever. good on schaefer for thinking of this.

your chests were smushed together, noses touching. his hands landed on your waist and yours on his shoulders as if it was instinct. the air switched into a tension full of need, and the mingling of heavy and excited breaths fueled it more.

you tilted your head upwards and to the right, feeling him do the same against you until you were both at the right angle. braeden was about to ask for permission to kiss you but couldn't formulate the words fast enough; you smashed your lips against him in the sweetest way you could muster. your lips were soft against his. and he could feel the remnants of whatever easy lip combo you decided to put on before the party.

you tasted the birthday cake chapstick that smoothed his pink lips, a small smile finding you at the thought of him choosing that flavor. you could feel his own lips twitch into a smile against your own. one of your hands traveled up to his beanie and goggles covered hair, carefully removing the items to thread your fingers through his soft and fluffy brown hair.

in turn, his hands gripped at your waist—your shirt slowly lifting under his needy fingers, separating from your skirt to reveal heated skin. the moment his fingers made contact with your side, sparks ignited. or at least it felt like it.

you tugged on his hair slightly, a soft moan breaking out from his lips and into your mouth. the kiss soon fell into a passionate fight of tongues and wandering hands, the room filling with sloppy sounds of lips meshing and disconnecting over and over again.

one of braeden's hands slowly trickled down below the hem of your skirt. he pulled away from your mouth with a smack and saliva string, "can i touch you? please?" he whispered. your swollen lips transformed into a smile at his small beg. "only if i can touch you after." you replied, seeing his eyes light up as he nodded, you giving one back.

his lips crashed onto yours again, building back up to where you once were. your skirt was lifted and bunched up at your hips in an instant. his slender fingers rubbed over your clothed clit as you spread your legs as much as you could muster. "fuck, brae," you moaned, tilting your head back.

"mmm, yeah?" he grinned against the warmth of your neck, planting kisses across the delicate skin. his lips puckered on a small spot a bit under your ear, humming as you shivered at the touch. "there we go," he whispered. his hand moved your underwear to the side, slipping his fingers through your slick folds. you couldn't hold back the moans that easily flew from you, getting slightly louder at the feel of him sucking at your neck, occasionally nipping at the skin.

"brae, please," you whined, grabbing his face to look into his eyes. he knew what you wanted. and god, did he provide. he eased two fingers into you, curling them once he set a good pace. you moaned right at him, his pretty light green eyes were now taken over by lust-blown pupils, staring right back into your own. the noises you made while he pumped his fingers went straight to his hardened cock, straining against his jeans.

braeden stuffed a third finger inside you. and the way your back arched off the wall while you mewled made his dick twitch in his pants. he felt you clenching around him, signaling you were close.

"c'mon, baby, you can do it," his fingers moved faster, the wet and squishy sounds filling the room alongside your moans. his name flew from your mouth like a mantra as your orgasm crashed over you. your hands gripped onto his shoulders as you pulled him into another kiss, trying to muffle your own sounds—although the party outside already had you two covered. but he swallowed your moans gladly, pulling away to focus on fingering you through your orgasm, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

"yeah, yeah, that's it, baby," he breathed against your slightly open mouth. he quickly pecked your lips as you whined. "that's it, good girl, honey, doing so good. fuck, yeah." he cooed.

you whimpered at the loss of his fingers when he pulled them out, agonizingly slow—gathering as much of your arousal off your gummy walls with his fingers. your hooded eyes gleamed as he began to suck on his fingers, letting out a groan at the taste of you.

"fuck, you taste amazing," he moaned, his fingers sucked clean of you. you grabbed him and spun him around as quick as your shaky legs would allow. you pinned him to the wall where you once stood, kissing him once more. your tongues tangled immediately, allowing you to taste yourself on him.

"let me taste you." you spoke. your voice was more demanding than asking. and god, did that turn him on.

braeden mumbled multiple whiny 'yes's' while his head hazily nodded. you bent down onto your knees, dragging your hands down his body. you placed a chaste kiss over his denim-clad bulge, feeling him twitch against you. "mm- please- please, no teasing. need you." he whimpered, the sound making you wetter.

you obeyed his begging, undoing his belt and pants before quickly pulling his jeans and boxers down. his cock, long and thick, sprung out. his tip was pink, bordering on a red flush of pure need. a bead of precum sat on his slit and you gave a kitten lick to take it off. you then enveloped him into your mouth while he moaned and tipped his head back against the wall. you practically swallowed him whole, letting out a gag once the tip of your nose hit the trimmed hair at his base.

you began to pull back, your tongue sticking out to lick a stripe up his shaft as you did. his hands reached over and grabbed your hair while you began to bob your head on him. he didn't move you, just made sure your head was stable as you took him, your own hands propped on his thighs.

his fingers began to tangle into your hair as you continued, your pussy clenching from his spew of praises. your nails pressed crescent moons into the skin of his thighs from gripping him harshly as you choked on his dick. braeden began to push your head down while thrusting his hips up, shoving himself deeper down your throat.

he was a consent guy all the way, so he didn't mean to do that without asking, but the full control he had suddenly taken made you moan—the sound vibrating on him.

"fu-ck! close, so close, oh my god," he began to ramble, your name slipping in the middle of his flurry of moans and whines. you hummed against him through hollowed cheeks, letting him know it was okay to cum inside your mouth.

and he did.

white, sticky ropes of his essence spewed down your throat, completely filling your mouth. you tasted his slight saltiness on your tongue. and you swallowed all that he gave, sucking him a bit as he was still in your mouth. when he pulled out and you looked up at him, you saw his chest heave. you had left him breathless.

you licked your lips with a smile. "i think that was more than seven minutes," you commented as he helped you up before stuffing himself back into his pulled up boxers and jeans.

"was still heaven, though." he added, making you laugh and lightly slap his chest. he pulled you into a sweet kiss, less temptation and lust, and more just savoring you.

you hummed as you pulled back, "i could really go for some curly fries right now. you?" and the moment the food's name left your mouth, he somehow fell harder.

his mouth fell open and his eyes went wide, "i think i'm in love with you." he said, making you giggle and peck his lips.

⭒ 𝘨𝘢𝘣𝘴 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘴 — i hope at least 2 of you got the tua reference in the beginning :3 anyways, braeden lemasters is my fav wallows member so i felt compelled to write for him first, but i'll write for dylan and cole eventually!!

also i hope its okay that i used my regular taglist for this! the only other person ik that really knows wallows is millie and both her and faith know i'm obsessed with braeden (hence the braedenslover account lmfao 🙏🙏)

⭒ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — @starzify @sunsbaby @bejeweledinterludes @soldiersgirl @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bittersweetfig @littlesoulshine @bluemerakis @ultravi0lence14 @legalmente-loca @sacr1ficialang3l @j2archives @mahi-wayy @emeraldcrs @liiiilsss @jdmsslvt

dm me or send an ask to be added to/taken off my taglist !!

[rageisinourveins]

BRAEDEN LEMASTERS | ARE YOU BORED YET (x)

[leaawrites]

Fucking hell, I just want a sweet Rockstar Boyfriend. Is that too much to ask for?

[romanholidayze]

[ateotdwinchester]

Hi! Can you write a Dylan x female reader where the reader is the lead singer and plays guitar in her own band and shes been working late into the night trying to finish a song and Dylan gets worried abt how shes overworking herself trying to finish the song?

thank you for sending this request in!! i really enjoyed writing this one and i hope you enjoy reading it! <3

—

ꨄ︎ overworked

pairing: dylan x reader

summary: you’d been working late to finish a song for your own band and dylan worries you’re overworking yourself

warnings: none

word count: 1.9k

✩ ✩ ✩

It was the fifth night this had happened. The fifth night that Dylan was lying in bed, an empty space beside him that you would usually occupy.

With you being in your own band, Dylan understood you had songs to write, music ideas to get out onto paper. But he was starting to worry that you were pushing yourself too far with the late hours you were working into.

Two hours ago, you told Dylan that you’d finish up for the night soon. However, you kept working, too focused on trying to get this song finished.

Dylan let you work, knowing that if he interrupted at an important moment that it could throw off your whole creative process.

So, he didn’t. He sighed as he looked at the time ticking away on the clock on your nightstand, just hoping that you’d come to bed soon.

It took him longer than normal, but Dylan managed to get to sleep.

He was thankful the next morning when he woke up to your arms loosely around his waist, the sound of your soft breathing coming from behind him.

He cautiously shuffled to lay facing you, hugging you closer to him so he could hold you for a while before having to start his day.

Dylan rubbed his hands up and down your back, tracing light patterns through the fabric of your shirt which caused you to stir slightly.

He leaned back as he felt you move, tucking your hair behind your ears as you slowly blinked your eyes open. A soft smile growing as you saw him.

“Morning, baby,” he spoke quietly. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good,” you yawned before continuing. “What’s the time?”

“Almost 10:30,” Dylan answered your question. “What time did you come to bed?”

You rolled onto your back, running your hands through your messy hair before thinking about answering.

“After I finished getting some lyrics written down.”

Dylan reached for your hand, holding it in his softly, “you’ve done that a few nights in a row now,” concern was laced in his tone. You looked over at him. “I don’t like you staying up so late, you’re gonna tire yourself out.”

“I’m fine, Dyl,” you tried to reassure. “Just really wanna get this song finished.”

You sat yourself up in bed while still holding Dylan’s hand, looking down at him softly.

Of course you always appreciated him looking out for you, and maybe he was right. Maybe you were working too late each night.

But you needed this song done. Your band needed this song to be done.

“Well, I need to get ready for our writing session,” you leaned down to Dylan, kissing him softly before getting up.

Dylan was happy you were having this writing session with your band today. He thought it would help you get some more lyrics down rather than you staying up late at night.

He was sure you’d have it done soon. This song was practically consuming your life at this very moment.

He’d always been proud of you, proud of your work, proud of how well you had been doing with singing and playing instruments as well as having your own shows.

It was when you seemed exhausted that he didn’t like.

The times you’d come home from writing or recording and were overly tired. The nights when you’d stay up into the early hours to get songs finished.

And especially the times you came home seeming defeated, when sessions hadn’t gone as you would’ve liked them to.

But he was always there to support you no matter what. He loved you and you knew that. He always showed that.

He decided that today he would surprise you with a little something once you got home, knowing you might appreciate that after a long day of hard work.

Unfortunately, you weren’t in the happy mood he expected you to be in when you walked through the door.

Shoulders slouched, tired eyes, you looked exhausted. As if you could’ve gone to sleep right that second.

Dylan approached you slowly as you slipped your shoes off, dropping your bag to the floor next to them, your jacket following soon after.

“Baby?” Dylan placed his hand on your shoulder.

You turned to him, finally smiling for what felt like the first time in hours. You immediately hugged him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Bad day?” He asked.

You nodded your head, “nothing went right,” you audibly sighed. “We argued over what music sounded better with the lyrics and... it just didn't go as planned."

“I’m sorry,” Dylan stepped back, taking your hands in his. “I did make you some dinner though.”

“You did?” Your face lit up.

He pulled you in the direction of the kitchen where he had a pot on the stove, a cover over the top to keep whatever he’d cooked warm. It smelled delicious.

It was some spaghetti, simple, but he knew you’d like it. He began to dish it out as you stood with him, sprinkling some cheese over the top of it after.

You both sat in the living room to eat your dinner, watching some tv at the same time.

After you were done, you helped Dylan to clear everything up. Washing the dishes while he dried them and put them away in the correct spaces.

And then it was time for bed.

Dylan was surprised that you were coming up to bed at the same time as him. The first time in days that this had happened.

After getting ready to go to sleep, you were laying in bed with Dylan. His arms were wrapped around you, holding you against him.

“Can you believe I’m going to bed so early?” You joked, yawning at the same time.

“You deserve the rest,” Dylan kissed your cheek softly. “Especially after all the work you’ve been doing on your song.”

It was quiet for a moment, just enjoying Dylan holding you like this before you spoke again.

“Think we can get breakfast in the morning?”

“That’ll be nice,” Dylan agreed.

Not long after that, you were saying goodnight to each other. Closing your eyes to drift off to sleep to get some rest.

The fact you went to sleep with Dylan, was the exact reason why he was so confused when he woke up with the bed empty beside him the next morning.

He’d woken up early, the light only just seeping through the blinds, but it was too quiet. It didn’t sound like you were in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a drink.

Where had you gone?

Dylan took a breath as he got up out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he felt tired from only just waking up.

He made his way downstairs. Not finding you in the kitchen, you weren’t in the living room.

He realised what room was left. Your music room. The room you worked in, where you wrote your songs, where you played guitar.

Dylan walked down the hall, pushing the door open slowly to peep his head inside. And… there you were.

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over, head resting on the hard table as you slept.

There was a piece of paper and a pen next to where your head was laying. Lots of scribbles and crosses on the page where you must have been trying out different lyrics.

Dylan sighed. He didn’t like seeing you like this. So stressed over this song. You were obviously overworking yourself and he needed to get through to you before you made yourself sick.

He leaned down beside you, brushing your hair out of your face and back behind your ear. He didn’t want to wake you, but he at least wanted you to be a little bit more comfortable while you slept.

Rushing to the living room, he grabbed the blanket you kept there, bringing it back to where you were.

He cautiously draped it over you, wanting you to be warm enough until you woke up in a few hours.

Before he left the room, he kissed the top of your head, quietly walking away after.

A few hours later, Dylan was up again, before you had woken up. He got up, made some coffee, and thankfully, you did wake up in the middle of him doing so.

As you woke up, you felt the blanket around you. Slightly unaware of your surroundings. You didn’t realise you’d fallen asleep in here.

At the same moment, Dylan had made his way over to the room you were in. Two cups of coffee in hand. He saw you were awake now.

“Hey, sleepy head,” he waited for you to look over at him before he said anything else. “Wondered where you were earlier.”

“Yea, I’m sorry, I don’t even remember falling asleep down here.”

“It’s okay,” he shook his head. “I uh, made some coffee.”

You thanked him with a smile, taking the cup from him to sip some of it. You both placed the coffees down on your desk, it now being quiet.

It was obvious Dylan had something on his mind. He would usually ask how you slept, or ask if you wanted breakfast, but instead he was silent.

He finally locked eyes with you, and that’s when you knew it was the moment he’d start talking.

He cleared his throat. “I’m worried about you.”

“Dyl, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he reached over, taking one of your hands in his. “You’ve been up late multiple nights this week trying to finish this song.”

He paused, thinking of how to put things, “and now I wake up today to find you asleep down here,” he looked to your price of paper. “I know you want to get this song finished, but you can’t keep overworking yourself like this, baby.”

You looked down, knowing he was right. Maybe as the lead singer of your band, you felt responsible for getting your song finished as soon as possible.

When in reality, you didn’t need to rush it. It didn’t need to be finished right away. You had way more time than you were giving yourself to get it done.

“I just had this great idea, for this song,” you quietly explained. “I hyped it up, and made it sound like I could have it done by next week.”

“But…”

“But, I’m nowhere near finished,” you pushed the paper towards Dylan. “Everything I write… nothing sounds right and I don’t know why.”

Dylan read over the lyrics that were written, it didn’t sound bad in his eyes. He could see the crossed out lines though, knowing you weren’t getting the lyric ideas that you wanted.

“You should take a break for a few days at least,” he suggested, squeezing your hand reassuringly in his. “They aren’t expecting it to be done quickly, that’s not always how song writing works.”

“I know,” you mumbled.

Dylan shuffled closer to you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your cheek a few times.

“Think you can take time away from writing to get breakfast?” He asked. “Maybe you’ll find some inspiration from eating chocolate chip pancakes.”

You nodded your head, “definitely,” you leaned back from him slightly, running a hand through his hair.

“Please just try not to overwork yourself so much,” he cupped your face in his left hand. “You’re a great writer, but your best work will come after you get a good amount of sleep each night.”

Dylan kissed you softly, you smiled after, “breakfast and then maybe I’ll catch up on some sleep when we get home?”

“You deserve it,” he stood up, pulling you with him. “A day of food and rest, sounds good doesn’t it?”

“Especially since it’s with you,” you pulled him in for one last hug. “Thank you for talking some sense into me, I love you.”

“Always,” Dylan held you that little bit tighter. “I love you too.”

✩ ✩ ✩

taglist: @hypnotizedstarkey @jjunebug | if you would like to join my wallows taglist, please comment here or see this post

[lvndrfucks]

hiii !! are you able to do just cute tour moments with dylan ?? either on stage or not ?? thank u sm for writing for the wallows cuz i swear no one writes for them 😭

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆tour moments ft. dylan｡˚🐻𖤐🧋

➤ during performances, you sang clairo’s part in “are you bored yet?” you’d usually sing from behind your keyboard until fans were making comments that you should be up front with dylan during the verse.

just as you were about to sing, dylan quickly raced to your side and offered his hand out. you laughed while singing.

“feels like I've known you my whole life, i can see right through your lies.” hands intertwined, dylan led you to the front as the crowd roared in excitement. “i don't know where we're going, but i'd like to be by your side.”

your cheeks began to hurt from smiling as he circled around, his eyes never leaving yours. the two of you harmonized. “if you could tell me how you're feelin', maybe we'd get through this undefeated. holdin' on for so long.”

instead of going back to the keyboard, the two of you jumped around stage until the song finished.

➤ fans also made the connection that you and dylan often shared clothing. there were countless photos online that showed side by side comparisons of him wearing a shirt/sweater and you wearing the same one. they thought it was sweet and you thought it was cute how people picked up on the little things.

one time, during a concert, dylan decided to tease the audience a bit.

it was after you performed a song and were about to do the talking portion when dylan leaned into the mic.

he called your name. “i really like your shirt. where’d you get it?”

you glanced down, giggling a bit. “thanks. i’m not sure, actually. just something i found from my closet.”

“i didn’t know my suitcase was considered your closet now.”

the crowd screamed as you rolled your eyes playfully, waving a hand at him dismissively.

of course, there was one memorable moment in particular that was a fan favorite.

“hi, guys,” you beamed into the mic. “do you guys like my outfit?” it was a sheer lace crop top with black lace trim and gothic-inspired lettering. the top was paired with a denim skirt with a ruffled hem, giving it a playful touch. “my boyfriend got it for me.” more cheers erupted. “can we say thank you dylan?”

you laughed at the boy’s red face as half of the audience just screamed while there were a mix of thank you’s thrown in. braeden and cole thought it would be funny to thank dylan as well as they said it into their microphones.

➤ a lot of behind the scenes moments were shared online, whether they were on tour or in the recording studio. if you focused hard enough and squinted your eyes, you and dylan would be spotted in the background of certain scenes.

during the beginning of your guys’ relationship, you tried not to show too much pda in front of the camera. now, the two of you could care less.

most of them consisted of the two of you close to each other. you sitting on his lap, him having one arm around you. there would be little snippets of the two of you messing around thrown in.

as you were doing your makeup, dylan approached you from behind with a camcorder. you flashed him a small smile before focusing back to your makeup. he zoomed in on you through the mirror.

“isn’t she gorgeous?”

you tried biting back a smile, attempting to glare at him.

“see? she’s cute even while trying to be mad at me.” you placed your palm over the lens, pushing away gently. “hey, don’t hate the camera man,” dylan defended.

“go bother braeden.” you breathed out a laugh.

“fine. only because i like bothering him.”

dylan peppered your cheek with kisses, the camera only getting a shot of your shoulder when he leaned in. but the audience knew what happened.

➤ have you guys seen that one clip of ross lynch and jaz sinclair (rip) at one of the driver era concerts and she’s dancing around while he just stares at her in full admiration? and when she goes to walk away, he’s just following her with his lips pressed against hers, not wanting her to go?

yeah, that was definitely you and dylan.

during your songs, you interacted with the crowd quite a bit and liked to dance around the stage. dylan always had heart-shaped eyes watching as you pulled the silliest moves just to see him laugh.

you both leaned in for a kiss, but he didn’t want to pull away. you attempted to walk back to your keyboard, but he was right behind you with his lips still against yours. eventually, you placed your hand on his chest to pull back, cheeks red and smile so wide that it hurt.

“love you,” he mouthed.

you blew him a kiss that he pretended to hit his heart.

[jimmasterflash]

He's so pretty I actually can't

[felixlefebvre]

WALLOWS Live from Amazon Music’s City Sessions at Bowery Ballroom in New York City on May 23rd, 2024.

[guitarr0mantic]

model — wallows; album aesthetic. 🛋️🍊 ·˚ ༘

[awarnin]

can i request literally just anything written for cole… idc what you’re the only wallows writer ive been able to find and im starving for cole content 😭

Dating Cole Preston | HEADCANONS

warning: none

author's note: THANKS FOR YOUR REQUEST!! I wrote these headcanons because I thought it was something very general and you might like it, I hope you do!!! Lmk your opinion <3

_

Cole is a very sweet boyfriend, little impromptu dates during the week when you two have a little free time.

A very organized person, with clear goals and objectives. He will make it clear to you what he wants for your relationship from the beginning.

I don't think he's thinking about marriage, a long-term relationship is what he wants.

Quality time is definitely his love language, he likes spending time with you, from going for a walk together in the mornings to talking for hours during the early hours.

He will definitely persuade you to play video games with him, if you don't understand them he will take the time to explain in detail how it works, and he will let you win the first few times. Only the first few times, he has a competitive spirit.

He likes to wear matching outfits with you, combine colors or textures, he thinks he's very cool.

He is a very romantic person behind closed doors, he will definitely hug you and kiss you in front of other people, but he will open up much more to you when you are alone. Sweet words every day, repeating how much he loves you.

I can imagine him laying on your chest at night just scrolling through Tiktok for hours with you, enjoying your company.

He's a very good listener, you can talk to him for hours and he'll remember every word, nothing will ever come out of his mouth.

He will take photos of you at .5x always, like, always.

He'll definitely write songs about you, little tunes that make him think about your relationship. He'll feel a little embarrassed for you to hear them at first, even though you love them.

He'll never get angry, he's anxious, and a little awkward at times, but he's a very patient person and prefers to talk to you about the problems you have before anything else.

He's a little bit jealous, nothing exaggerated, and it'll never be your fault, he's a little insecure, even though you make it clear that you love him and he's enough.

_